Shawn Takes a Chill Pill Gus Told Him Not To
by slashtasticsam
Summary: Shawn never listens to Gus. He should probably start. M/M established relationship.


**Title:** Shawn takes a chill pill. (Gus told him not to.)

**Author:** SlashtasticSam

**Paring:** Shawn/Gus

**Rating:** PG

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters, Ideas, places, or real people you may recognize in this work. I make no profit from writing this, and intend no ill will towards the writers/actors/owners of or in Psych.

**Shawn/Gus**

The bottle was staring at Shawn.

Well, not so much staring, as tempting him with its tiny little pills that promise happiness, and joy, and just a tiny hint of side effects, and may, or may not, cause hallucinations.

"Do not touch those pills Shawn." Funny, the little Jiminy Cricket conscience on Shawn's shoulder sounded an awful lot like a certain 'Pharmaceutical Salesman'.

"That's because it is me Shawn." Oh, must have said that out loud.

"Yes, you did." Oops.

"Would you stop that, please?" Shawn finally turned his head from the little bottle sitting on Gus's desk towards its owner who was looking quite annoyed leaning against the doorframe leading to the Psych office.

"Sorry, buddy." Shawn gave his most winning smile hoping to soothe his irritated boyfriend. It wasn't working. "Oh Gus, don't be such a bruised banana."

Gus rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "Can't you behave yourself for half a second Shawn?"

"But, what would be the fun in that?"

"I'm serious Shawn. You can't take any of those pills, they're for work." Shawn pouted, slightly put off.

"What would be so bad about taking some venis-la-flexin'? It's not like I would die or something."

"It's called venlafaxine Shawn. And you could die. It's a rare but serious side-effect of taking an anti-depressant that wasn't prescribed to you."

"Then prescribe it to me."

"Shawn, this is the twenty-seventh time I've told you that I can't prescribe you anything. I'm not a doctor, I sell them prescription grade medications."

"Details." Gus rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

"Whatever, Shawn." He stalked over towards his desk and snatched the bottle from its resting place. Shawn felt an acute, and slightly alarming, sense of loss as Gus stuffed the bottle in to his sample case.

"I'm going to the apartment to get changed for our reservation at Gippetto's tonight Shawn. Don't do anything stupid-" The raised eyebrow on Shawn's ruggedly handsome face, if he did say so himself (And he did. Quite frequently.), stopped Gus's original word choice. "Okay, more stupid than usual. At least not until I get back."

"Sure thing Gus." Shawn smiled charmingly until he heard the tell tale click of the door latching. When there was no longer any threat to getting caught, Shawn's eyes immediately darted to Gus's desk. He had left his Pharmaceutical case.

A wicked smile spread slowly over Shawn's face. Gus really should know better by now.

"Shawn, are you ready? Our reservation is in fifteen minutes." Gus called as he entered the office almost two hours after he had lest Shawn to get ready. "Shawn?"

A large crash came from where the desks were and Gus rushed to see if his boyfriend was okay.

Shawn was on his back. He was on his back in the office chair that usually resided in front of Gus's desk. Which was now on the ground. With Shawn still in it.

"Shawn?" Shawn blinked his eyes a bit as if to focus them. He looked around a little frantically, then, when he finally noticed Gus standing over him, he grinned a little wobbly.

"Hey, buddyyyyyy! What's goin' ooooooon?" Shawn slurred slightly, struggling back and forth fruitlessly trying to wiggle out of his chair. "Woah." Shawn looked dazed for a moment. "Gus, you have like three heads." He giggled. "Three seeeexy heads."

"Shawn are you high?"

"High? Nooooooo. I'm not depressed either." He wiggled a little more and chuckled when he got nowhere. "Definitely not depressed."

Gus finally noticed the open bottle of venlafaxine on his desk. "Shawn. What did I say about taking venlafaxine?"

"Ummm…" Shawn blinked trying to remember. "Not to take them?"

"That's right Shawn." Gus said scornfully. "How many did you take?"

"One? Two?" Gus picked up the bottle to look inside.

"You took the whole thing?"

"Maybe…"

"Shawn, there were six pills in here. You could die from that much venlafaxine!"

"'S not a big deal. The pills weren't working so I took more. And then some more…"

"Shawn!"

"Whaaaaaaat?"

"You must be out your damn mind!"

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest and sulked.

"Shawn."

"WHAT?" Shawn yelled, leaping straight out of his chair and onto his feet. The amount of lucidity it must have taken him to do that made him pause for a second.

"You're not high."

"…What?"

"You're not high." Gus repeated a small smug smile twitching at his lips. "Well, sugar high maybe, but not on drugs." Realization dawned on Shawn and his eyes widened.

"They were sugar pills."

"They're called placebos Shawn."

"…You set me up."

"You set yourself up. You should have seen this coming." Gus's smile was a full on smirk now. "Did you really think I'd leave you alone with possibly high inducing pharmaceuticals?"

"You know me way too well."

"You got that right." Gus's smile turned affectionate. "You ready to go eat?"

"I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion." Shawn commented, gesturing at his polo and jeans that his little trip had hindered in his changing. "You wanna ditch the reservation and go for jerk chicken?"

"Shawn, we've had this reservation for a week." Shawn just smiled and pecked Gus on the lips. "Oh, what the hell. Let's go." Shawn laughed as he rushed out the door to the Psych mobile. Gus shook his head fondly and grabbed Shawn's jacket before following him out the door.


End file.
